Ladies Like Blondes
by Memories-of-the-Shadows
Summary: A story of Cho's three most important blondes in her life and how they changed her. Warnings: first person pov, and femmeslash.


_**Just a one-shot that I came up with too damn early in the morning.**_

_**I don't either of the lovely ladies—oh, but how I wish.**_

:::

I love to listen to her talk.

Now, don't get me wrong, Luna doesn't chatter about stupid things like fashion and cosmetic charms like so many of my friends did. Luna doesn't chatter, period. But she does talk: about wonderful things that might not be real, but they're real enough to her and that is good enough for me.

I remember in the beginning of my third year having to show around this little blonde girl who would talk about things that didn't make sense and do things a little differently. I regret that I ever made fun of Luna for it.

But one thing that is wonderful about Luna is her capacity for forgiveness. I don't think the girl even knows what a grudge is; let alone how to hold onto one. Even if she wasn't as beautiful as she is, her inherent sweetness would just make her that much more alluring. Yet she is that beautiful.

It's been a long, difficult road for me to get here: sitting on this rock, staring at what I want my future to look like, listening to fairy tales that make me feel like a child again—begging to hear the story about the fishermen and the dragon again.

First, though, I will state that I prefer blondes. And that is another reason that I am here with Luna, but I really have a certain French blonde to thank for that.

In my fifth year, I fell in love with two blondes. Both of them were champions, and I really did love them both. And it's odd, that it was a cause and effect that I fell for two rather than one; because it was Fleur Delacour who was my first love. I was so confused by this that I was all too ready to fall in love with the second handsome blonde of my life: Cedric Diggory.

I was crying about more than Cedric's loss that day under the mistletoe; sometimes life can just be too confusing to take and you need to cry. But that day, it wasn't Harry who caught my eye; it was a pretty little girl who warned everyone to be careful because there were nargles in the mistletoe. This, of course, led directly to me kissing Harry and asking for a date. Funny how all my relationships with men were a direct result of me seeing a pretty girl and not having enough courage to face myself.

After that disastrous date, I started to notice Luna around more, and heard her talk, and remembered that little girl who I had mocked. I think that was the only time I ever understood my father's obsession with saving face, and that was the only time I can remember begging for forgiveness. All she did was smile ask me so sweetly what I had to be sorry for.

I had no answer for her then.

But now I do, and I figured out what it was mere weeks after her reply. I had to apologize to myself as well, because everything I'd ever done to Luna was mirrored back to me in the form of my sub-conscious mind. It took a girl two years younger than me to show me that for every name I called her, I called myself at least two. It took a girl two years younger than me to show me what I'd always wanted to be was hiding just beneath my skin.

That summer, I stopped caring about being popular and started caring about what I really loved. Reading, calligraphy, sewing, charm-work, potions, pottery, I did it all and didn't care whether my friends would approve or not. I cried every time I thought about Cedric, and I begged my Grandfather for stories like a child. I kissed a pretty blonde muggle girl, and I couldn't stop thinking about Luna and Fleur—but mostly Luna. It would have been the time of my life if not for Voldemort and something missing that I could not tell what it was.

I didn't realize that what was missing was someone to share it all with until after Christmas break.

I came back to rumors that Luna went with Harry to Slughorn's Christmas party and I felt the white heat of jealousy whenever someone mentioned it. I didn't understand this either, because I knew that I could not have cared less about the party. It was only after the third time I snapped at Harry for something insignificant and what seemed like the fiftieth time that I wanted to snatch Luna away from the boy just because he said hello in between classes that I realized something else.

I was in love with Luna—or, at the very least, lust.

The rest, as they say is history. I worked up enough courage to approach her, and she—wonder of wonders—agreed to go on a date with me. Pretty much the same thing every couple has to go through at least once, and we proceeded from there.

Now, I just can't get enough of her. She's the one who accepts me for who I am; and apparently always saw me that way. She's the one I can't lie to, and not just because she always knows when I'm lying. She's my ray of sunshine in the dark.

The war has heated up to a boiling point now, though, and my parents are taking me and my sister to China to get away from it. I can only hope that Harry ends it all soon, and that my Luna will be safe and no less sane—and no more, I like her the way she is—then she was before.

I want to listen to her lecture me on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks again.

:::

_**I love Luna. And Cho. Both girls are gorgeous and nice, and what more could a girl ask for? I tried to be believable, but I don't know if I really succeeded.**_

_**Oh, and you can thank my uncle for this, who managed to ruin all the (meager) pleasure that I had at his yearly torture—uh, I mean, party; with one of his comments. So I just had write something nice to make up for it.**_

_**Reviews please, if you don't mind. They soothe the tortured insomniac.**_


End file.
